Caned

Back to work tomorrow, at least back to work properly although I might still go on a client boat cruise in the afternoon. I showed my face twice last week, but that was to go on er, a couple of boat cruises and after dropping my Mum at the airport this evening, I then have to join a client dinner. As my Dad used to say when he studied the palms of my hands when I was in the early throes of my career “it’s not real work is it son?”

My knee is still sore as is my hamstring from where they took the graft to construct the new ligament but it appears to be doing well. It is still a fortnight before I can use a static bike and my physio was insisting I use my crutches or at least a cane until then. A cane I ask you.

I’m walking pretty well without the crutches but still aided by painkillers, which Kings Hill Addick will be pleased to know are now commingling nicely with beer. I am also an owner of the ugliest, hottest and blackest leg brace you can imagine. How I’m supposed to build my muscles up all the while wearing an electric blanket around my knee in this heat is slightly confusing.

While we are on the subject of knees and heat, I’d like to wish my friend New York Addick all the very best for this Sunday’s Chicago Marathon. I will follow it with my leg brace on local television channel WGN, which we manage to pick up here in Bermuda.

My knee

Oh my knee! I had completely forgotten about that.

Well after completely ignoring my surgeon’s advice of doing nothing but keeping my knee up for 3-4 days, it’s doing pretty well. I saw the physio on Tuesday and my recovery is advanced compared to normal. I suppose it was either going to go one way or the other after my exploits Sunday night, but it feels strong and I hardly use the crutches to get around because frankly it is quicker walking.

The physio has given me a whole programme of exercise, which builds up to walking, swimming, gym work, cycling, running and then sports but unfortunately they advise no contact sport or skiing for 12 months.

I have been at home on my own these last two days and struggle to sit and do nothing, but my Mum comes to visit tomorrow for 10 days, so at least I have someone to make me a cup of tea!

Right old knees up

This morning I had surgery to reconstruct my anterior cruciate ligament in my right knee, torn whilst playing indoor football earlier in the year.

Mistakenly the nurses appear to think I am some kind of sportsman. Those that know me will not read the rest of this post because they will be on the floor wetting themselves.

I should also refer the polite nurses to my physio who when discovering the extent of my injury asked me if I warmed up before playing football.

“Does the 5 minute walk to the indoor gym count?” I asked. Well not really she replied. “What about warming down?” she said.

“Well I walk back.”

Fortunately for me this is my first ever surgery despite being in my 40′s. Previously the closest I’ve ever come to understanding operations, was that funny little board game with the tweezers!

Sadly despite years of paying or contributing to private healthcare both in the UK and the US, I had to have my first ever operation in the King Edward Memorial Hospital in Bermuda. Imagine Lewisham Hospital after the war.

And it does seem that in the two years I have lived here I’ve spent more time in this place than any other hospital in my life. We do have an option to have operations off island but this particular surgeon was recommended by well over 10 people and he did fill me with a lot of confidence, unlike the admitting nurse this morning who spent five minutes telling me that she’d had the same procedure but now her shoulder was fully recovered. I grabbed the black felt tip pen out of her hand and drew a huge circle on my right knee.

Anyway the morphine is kicking back in and I should be home tomorrow by half-time.